Getting the DOWN (A Bad Boy Sports Romance)
Page 9
“Is that right?” I tease her.
She rolls her eyes. “Duh. Last season, out of five-hundred four passing attempts, you had three-hundred forty-eight completions, for five-thousand, two-hundred twenty yards. You had forty-two rushing attempts, two-hundred forty yards! And forty-eight touchdowns. So yeah, I’d say you’re the best. Like you didn’t know that.”
I raise my eyebrows and look at Jeff, who’s beaming at his daughter. Sheesh. Smart kid.
“Wow. You have a great potential career as a sports announcer,” I tell her. Then I freeze, wondering if I’ve just fucked up. Are you supposed to talk about the future with a kid who might never see it? For a second, I’m sure I’ve just managed to turn this into a repeat of my visit with Jacob. But then I see the way Caitlynn is glowing with pride at what I’ve said, and I realize it’s okay.
“You really think so?” she asks me, and the hope in her face melts my heart.
“I know so,” I say sincerely. “Man, I was a football fanatic my whole childhood, but I didn’t know the stats nearly as well as you do.”
“So, you’ll introduce me to the team, then?” she says, her face beaming.
“Yup. You passed the test,” I say, winking. “You’re in.”
She raises a fist and pumps it in the air. “Yeah!” Then for a moment her eyes grow sober. “Wait, can my mom and dad come, too?”
I laugh. “Of course they can. If they want. What do you think, Mom and Dad?”
Margo smiles. “Well, I won’t understand any of it, but it would be pretty exciting to go see a game in person.”
“Okay, then.” I glance over at Rinn, who’s standing by the doorway. “We’ve got it covered. Right, Rinn?”
Her eyes are shining as they meet mine. She’s looking at me almost like she’s… proud. A warm feeling starts to spread in my stomach at the thought. “We’ve got it covered,” she says softly.
“Are you guys getting a new stadium?” Caitlynn is asking me. “My dad told me the team’s saying they need a new one, but that it’s going to be really expensive.”
“The owner’s saying we need a new one,” I correct her. “That’s not quite the same thing.”
“Well,” she presses me, “What do you think? Do you think the team needs one?”
“Uh… I’m agnostic on that.”
Caitlynn frowns. “What does that mean?”
“It means that new stadium or no new stadium, all I want to do is play the best game I know how.”
From his chair by the window, Jeff laughs. “Good, diplomatic answer.”
“I’m serious, man,” I tell him. “I mean, would a stadium be great? Sure. But that’s for someone above my pay grade to worry about. I just play ball.”
I stay and talk with Caitlynn and her parents for over an hour, and by the end of it, I decide I’m going to make it a point to keep visiting her as regularly as I can. She’s a special kid, a real spitfire. Eventually, though, she starts to look kind of tired, so I sign her jersey and give her a football with the Rockets logo on it, and tell her that next time I see her, I’m gonna quiz her on some more stats. Then Rinn and I shake hands with her parents and leave so that Caitlynn can rest.
“That seemed to go pretty well,” I say as we leave.
“Jake, you were fantastic!” Rinn enthuses. “Honestly. You made that little girl’s week!”
“She’s a pretty special kid.” I’m pretty keyed up, too, and Rinn’s happiness is contagious. “Her parents are pretty great, too.”
“I have to say,” she says, shaking her head. “I really had my doubts about whether this was going to work out. But you’re really surprising me, Jake. You’re really good at connecting with these kids. It’s a gift.”
It’s a compliment that leaves me tongue-tied for a minute. I mean, sure, I’m used to being praised for my skills on the field, my looks, stuff like that. But all that stuff — even as much as I love the game — isn’t exactly changing the world. Ultimately, I’m just a ball player, and for the most part, I’ve built my life around making myself happy, successful, and rich. To have Rinn tell me that I’m doing something that actually makes a difference, even just one person at a time… well, it makes me feel really good. Like I’m worth more than just my passing arm.
I realize as we walk out the hospital doors that it’s already late afternoon. We must have spent longer with Caitlynn than I thought. I start to try to think of a way to keep hanging out with Rinn. Maybe I can ask her to dinner? I’m already anticipating her getting the wrong idea if I do, and I try to figure out a way to talk around her objections.
Except. Would she really be getting the wrong idea?
What exactly am I trying to do here, after all?
I listen to Rinn chatter excitedly as we find my car and climb inside. All the while, my brain fighting an inner battle that I don’t really want to admit to, even to myself. I mean, yeah, of course I’m attracted to Rinn. She is objectively hot, after all. There’s no shame in that. The fact that I’ve managed to keep my dick in my pants so far is mainly because I know if I fuck this up I’ll have Bull Molinari, Coach Porter, and Knute Amundson to answer to.
But I’ve resisted hot women before — rarely, yes, but I’ve done it. Usually, it’s the wife or girlfriend of a buddy who’s having trouble taking no for an answer. No woman is worth the aggravation of shitting where you live. The solution has always been to find another hot, available chick to assist me in my time of need. This should be simple.
So why have I not so much as looked at another woman since the day I got stuck with Rinn as my handler?
It’s a question I don’t really have an answer to, and something tells me that thinking about it too much might take me down a road I don’t want to go down. So instead, I decide to push it out of my mind. Fuck it. Yes, I want to spend more time with her. Yes, I think she’s smoking hot. I don’t need to analyze it any more than that. We’re adults. What we do on our own time is our own business, as long as we keep it private.
I’m about to casually ask Rinn if she wants to go grab dinner when her phone rings deep inside her bag. She fishes for it as I pull out of the parking garage and into traffic. I glance at her as she frowns at the number, then answers it. “Hello, Harriet? You’re still at the office? What —?”
As I drive, Rinn falls silent, listening to the voice on the other end. A soft, strangled sound comes from her, then she draws in a sharp breath, her hand lifting to cover her mouth.
“Oh…” she whispers. “Oh. No. Thank you for calling me, Harriet. I know. I know. Okay. Take care.”
“What’s up?” I ask as she ends the call.
“It’s Jacob,” she says, turning to me with eyes full of tears. “He died this afternoon.”
Chapter 13
Marinda
“I don’t know why this is hitting me so hard,” I sob. “We knew his diagnosis was terminal.”
It’s true. Everyone in Jacob’s life knew he wasn’t going to pull through. The last time I saw him, with Jake, I could tell it was only a matter of days, maybe a couple of weeks at most.
But Jacob was such a special little boy. I’d watched him fight his disease for years, thinking at first that he’d beaten it, and then crushed to hear the cancer had returned and spread. I’d planned on going to see him one more time, but I’d been too busy and distracted by my duties with Jake. Having my co-worker Harriet call me with the news that I was too late was almost more than I can bear.
“I’m so sorry, Rinn,” Jake murmurs beside me. He’s stopped the car, and is staring at me now, a worried look on his face.
“I’m okay,” I try to say, but it just makes me cry harder. I’m not okay. Most of the time, I manage to keep myself focused away from the saddest parts of my job. It’s important to be able to do that, so that I can do my best to help bring joy into the lives of these kids. But every once in a while something happens that shakes me to the core, and I break down at how hopeless it can seem sometimes. Usually, I’m alone, an
d usually, I can just let myself have a good cry and get it out of my system.
Today, though, I’m with the absolute last person I want to see me cry.
“Rinn.” Jake’s voice is quiet, kind. “You don’t have to be okay. Of course you’re not. I know you cared about Jacob. I know how hard it must be to be strong when you’ve gotten news like this.” He reaches up and lifts my chin with his finger. “Don’t be embarrassed by that.”
As I stare into his eyes, I’m mostly embarrassed by the fact that my nose is probably red as a beet and I’m sniffling like mad because I could only find one kleenex in my bag and it’s already a soggy mess. But instead of looking repulsed, he lifts a thumb to my cheek and gently brushes away a tear.
“Thanks,” I choke out. “I don’t… usually get like this.” His touch is soothing, but confusing, too. It makes me want to lean against him and just collapse wearily into my sadness, but there’s something else. As gentle as it is, it’s also unmistakably, undeniably the touch of a man. It’s intimate. It’s meant to soothe, but underneath, there’s something more.
A hint. A signal. A promise. From his body to mine.
Deep within my core, something shifts. Receives the message.
And my body sends a response to my brain that’s so powerful, so overwhelming, it takes almost everything in me to push it down.
“I don’t think you should be alone right now,” Jake murmurs. He gives my cheek one more soft caress that I almost lean into and moan. Then he starts the car again and pulls out into the street, making a U-turn.
“Where are you going?” I ask breathlessly.
“I’m taking you to my place. No, I’m not taking no for an answer,” he interrupts me as I start to protest. “I’ll take you home whenever you want me to. But only after you’ve had some time to calm down.” He glances over and gives me a quick wink. “You’ll have to wrestle the steering wheel away from me to stop me, and no offense, but I’m pretty sure that’s not gonna happen.”
I don’t say anything. Truth be told, I don’t really want to be alone right now. But I’m not sure that being with Jake is a good idea. I open my mouth to protest again, but before I can say anything, his hand has darted out and he’s put a finger over my mouth: Shhhh.
“I told you. Not taking no for an answer.”
So, because I believe him, I just stop talking. Exhausted, I lean back into the buttery leather bucket seat of his Camaro, close my scratchy, puffy eyes, and let go of trying to be strong.
“Hey,” he says. “Wake up, sleepyhead. We’re here.”
I sit bolt upright, blinking. “How long have I been out?”
His eyes twinkle. “Pretty much the whole way here. About twenty minutes.”
Oh my God. I can’t believe I fell asleep in his car. Great, now I’m not only puffy and red-eyed, but I was probably snoring or drooling in my sleep. I reach a surreptitious hand up to swipe at my mouth.
“Sorry about that,” I murmur.
“Don’t worry about it. If you fell asleep, it’s because you needed the rest.” He opens the driver’s side door. “Come on.”
I’m out of the car and standing before my half-groggy brain fully registers that we’re at his place. He’s parked in the middle of a circular drive in front of a three-story, modern home with lots of glass windows and wraparound balconies on the second and third floors. The sun is just starting to dip a little bit lower in the sky, but already, outdoor floodlights are bathing the house in warm, inviting light.
“Where are we?” I ask, looking around at the neighborhood.
“On the west side of Bryant Lake.”
Jake takes my hand before I know what’s happening, and leads me to the front door. He punches a code into the keypad, then turns the handle. “Come on in,” he invites me, pushing the door open to let me enter first.
I walk into a large entryway that leads into an open floor plan, with a large living room and a kitchen off to the side. Floor to ceiling windows and sliding glass doors make the room look even more spacious, as does the low-slung, modern furniture in muted tones that complement the wood floors and latte-colored walls.
“Oh, my gosh.” I know I’m staring but I can’t help it. “This place is amazing!”
“Glad you like it,” he says. He kicks off his shoes in the entryway and slips on a pair of flip flops. “I bought it about a year after I started playing with the Rockets.”
I wander over to one bank of windows and look out. There’s a massive teak patio outside, surrounding a large swimming pool. Inviting clusters of comfortable-looking patio furniture are spaced out around the area. It looks like the perfect place for parties. I find myself wondering what kinds of crazy things have happened here over the years, but block the thought before my imagination can run too wild.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Jake has come up close behind me without me realizing it. I jump a little and let out an embarrassing bleat. “Sorry,” he grins. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay,” I laugh shakily. “I guess I must just be a little on edge, what with the news about Jacob.”
He nods. “Understandable.”
“Can I just get some water?”
“You sure you don’t want something a little stronger? Just to help you wind down a little?”
Against my better judgment, I let him talk me into a glass of white wine. “I wouldn’t think you’d have anything but beer and Fireball,” I tease.
“Hey, I’ve got more class in my little pinkie than most guys have in their whole bodies,” he says, going into the kitchen. “I won’t even make you drink your wine out of a red Solo cup.”
I laugh. “Damn, you are classy.”
He comes back with a glass of buttery chardonnay for me, a bottle of beer in the other hand. “Come on,” he says. “It’s a nice night. Let’s go out on the patio.”
I follow Jake outside and take a seat with him on a couch facing the shore of Bryant Lake, with a view of the Springville skyline in the distance.
“My only complaint about this place is I don’t get the best view of the sunset,” he says to me as he clinks his bottle against my glass. “But the sunrises are incredible.”
For patio furniture, this couch is incredibly comfortable. I sink back against the cushions, letting myself relax, and take a sip of my wine. It’s good, better than I would have expected. I take another sip. Maybe I should stop judging Jake Ryland so quickly on things I think I know about him, I tell myself. Despite appearances, he’s got some hidden parts to him that are definitely more than meets the eye.
For a few minutes, we just sit there in silence, watching as the lowering sun reflects off the water and the skyscrapers in the distance. The temperature has dropped a couple of degrees, signaling that night is just beginning to fall. It’s so peaceful here, and trees lining either side of the property block out any sight or sound of his neighbors. There’s no one else here but us.
“Does it ever get lonely, living in this huge place all by yourself?” I ask eventually.
Beside me, I feel him shrug against the pillows. “I’m not here a lot, to be honest. And if I do get bored, it’s a pretty good place to throw a party.”
I look over at the pool and the rest of the couches and seats arranged around the patio. “I bet it is. I can just imagine all the shirtless men flexing their muscles to impress crowds of women in bikinis.”
He laughs. “You’re not wrong. Football players can get pretty wild.” He looks over at me. “Feeling better?”
“Yes. Thank you.” I take a deep breath and let it out. “Doing this job, you try not to get too attached to the kids. I hope that doesn’t sound harsh. It’s just that if you do, it can cripple you, burn you out. And they deserve the best we can give them. But every once in a while, one of them really captures your heart.” I look at him. “Jacob was one of those kids.”
“What was it about him that made him special to you?” Jake looks sincerely interested.
�
��I can’t explain it, really. He just… took to me, you know?” I smile sadly, and swallow the rising lump in my throat. “He always called me Rinnie, and whenever he saw me, he’d throw his arms open for a hug and smile so big when he greeted me. ‘Rinnie!’” I opened my arms, imitating his exuberance, and laughed sadly. “Even when he was really sick, he always did that. I’ll miss not hearing that again.”
Jake’s eyes are locked on me as I speak. A tear rolls down my cheek and he lifts up his hand and brushes it away.
“Rinn,” he says simply. His voice is low, intimate. Being here, alone with him, it sort of terrifies me. I open my mouth to respond, not knowing what will come out.
“Yes,” I say, but as I do I realize it’s not a question.
Jake’s hand moves around to cup my head from behind, tilting my face up to his. Then, before I can even register what’s about to happen, his mouth is on mine, soft but insistent. A low moan escapes my throat before I can stop it, and he fists his hand in my hair and tugs gently, arching my neck further back. Then he’s devouring me, his tongue probing, tasting, taking, and I open myself to him, no questions, no hesitation, just a sudden, overwhelming ache of need that makes my nipples harden and wetness pool between my legs.
Then, Jake pulls away, breathing hard. When I open my eyes, his are locked on me. There’s something so feral in his expression, almost savage, that it makes my breath hitch in my throat.
“Jake…” I gasp, and then stop.
Because what’s about to come out of my mouth is, “Take me.”
Chapter 14
Jake
Rinn breaks away from me, her eyes dark with desire but wild, a little frightened. She reaches for her glass of wine and drains it.
I don’t blame her for being afraid. The kiss we just shared, it was… a lot more intense than I thought it was going to be. The heat between us just went from a simmer to a boil in about three seconds. It was all I could do to pull away from her and give her some time to recover.